Web of Lives
by BellsConlon
Summary: Even though the strike may be over, there is still a fight to come. As the end of the newsies approaches, Spot Conlon struggles to maintain hold of his family and territory. OC, Mush, Jack, B'Way's Katherine. Formerly 'Brooklyn's Secrets.' R&R
1. Chapter 1

**Web of Lives**

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><p><strong>Distribution: <strong>Links only- please DM to ask for approval.

**Disclaimer: **Newsies and all characters and property of the Disney Corporation. All rights reserved. Writing is not intended for profit.

**Rights: **Though "Newsies" the film is not mine, the storyline and subsequent chapters are. Please do not plagarize.

**NOTE: There is a story entitled 'Brooklyn's Secrets' by the author iheartron547. This is an old account of mine that I shared with a friend, and we coauthored a story. 'Brooklyn's Secrets' was mine alone, and this story is a revised version of such. Due to lack on login information, I was not able to delete 'Brooklyn's Secrets' before posting this story. IT IS NOT PLAGIARISM BECAUSE IT IS MY OLD WORK. Please understand.**

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><p>CHAPTER ONE<p>

If one were to rise early enough and stand atop the docks in Brooklyn in the early morning, a glorious sight would meet their eyes; the sun rising and shedding i's first rays of light upon the Brooklyn Bridge, reflecting light off the river beneath it.

Early mornings often found a certain blue-eyed newsie pensively gazing out over the river, his territory coming to life behind him with early morning bustle. Those who knew he spent time there left him alone; interruptions would only set him off, it was common knowledge that an angry Spot Conlon was not someone ideal to be spending time around. Indeed, that was true, as a certain Mr. Joseph Pulitzer now knew all to well, or without Brooklyn, the 'Hattan newsies would have never triumphed in the strike.

And that was why Spot took the early mornings for himself- to think in peace, none of which he got during the day, between running the Brooklynites, keeping the peace with other territories, and the occasional strike. Spot deserved his mornings and everybody knew it.

"Knew I'd find ya heah."

Except maybe the few brave souls who dared to butt in to his private time.

Spot jumped at the sound of the voice and his hand automatically went to his side, gripping the gold-tipped head of his cane.

"Damn yah, Bells! Wha' was dat foah?" Spot asked angrily. The girl named Bells smirked.

"Scared yah?" she guessed. "Oh, an' don' worry. I brought company, jus' like I knew yah would want."

Spot groaned as another girl's head peeped over the bulkhead of the dock.

"Mornin' Spot!" the newcomer greeted cheerfully.

"Twoils, yah to?" Spot let out an agitated huff of discontentment. "Damn yah twins."

"No' nice language," Bells scolded teasingly, for she was one to talk. "We'se ladies, after all."

Spot snorted.

"Yeah, dat's no way tah talk tah yoah sistas," Twirls added as she and Bells took a seat on either side of their brother.

"Don' remind meh," Spot grumbled. "I still sometimes wonda how we'se related."

"Well..." Twirls began, but Spot gave her a shove and she shut up.

Spot, though, had a point. To the eye, the three Conlons could not look any different. Spot's small, muscular form and dirty blond hair contrasted with his sister's dark brown locks and lanky, long limbs. Still, though, a closer inspection revealed the similarities that marked them as family: the pale Irish coloring and distinct blue eyes that pierced straight through whomever looked at them. As much as Spot complained about them, they were his sisters and he was fiercely protective.

He put an arm around each sister, pulling them close for a rare moment of brotherly affection.

"Whadda ya thinkin' 'bout?" Bells asked, looking up at her brother.

"Ah, jus' the trouble you an' Emma-goil are always causin' me," he said teasingly, mussing up Bells' hair as Twirls pouted and reprimanded, "Yah know I hate it when ya call me dat."

It was Spot who first called her Twirls. As a little girl, Emma Conlon would constantly spin and flit about like "the showgirls!" Spot would say. Bells came later, after she had been living in the boarding house for a few months. She'd been called Madison or various shortened versions of the name- Mads, Maddy, Mad Maddy, and so on. That changed when she accidentally tripped over a bell McCurdy-the lodging overseer- kept, waking the whole house. It then became her job to wake up the boys every morning since, a chore she greatly enjoyed.

Spot yawned, the rising sound of the factories along the water line whirring, getting ready for the day's work could be heard peppering the air. He turned to each twin and said, "Well, time foah anudda day," and held out a hand to pull the two up.

"Thank yah!" Bells said brightly. "Yoah to sweet."

Spot rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm charmming," he agreed. "Now let's go! We'se got a job tah do."

The twins took off, with Spot trailing behind them, running back to the boarding house, ducking through side alleys and cutting across the main square, earning yells from vendors who were beginning to set up shop for the day's market. The sun shone brightly overhead, a promising sign: if the headlines were decent, it would be an economically strong day for the Brooklynites.

Spot reached the steps of the boarding house, McCurdy greeting him with a tilt of his bowler hat, saying in his lick brogue, "The lassies are already up there, waking the lads. How's it lookin'?"

Spot shrugged. "Sun's out. If Hearst's line's is any good, should be good."

McCurdy nodded, adding, "Well, bring me back a paper," before waving Spot up the stairs. He took the steps two at a time, an amused grin spreading over his face as he pushed open the door to the bunk room and listened to the commotion occurring inside.

"Up, yah bummahs! You'se got papes to sell!"

Bells walked up and down the rows of bunks, yelling and ringing, shaking or shoving a newsie awake here and there. "UP!"

She, as usual, was met with a response of groans and ducked as a pillow flew by her head.

"Missed meh?" she called tauntingly, approaching a bunk, standing on tiptoe to talk to the boy sleeping in the top bed.

"Damn yah Bells."

"Spot already took care o' dat, Pockets," Bells replied to Brooklyn's second-in-command and notorious pickpocket, "but thanks foah da thought." This was a major perk of her job, she thought devilishly, smiling down at Pockets. The boys, in the summer heat especially, tended to sleep shirtless and from running around New York all day...the sight just caused her to smile.

"Find, screw yah den," Pockets retorted and pulled the thin blanket over his head. She placed down her bell and pulled herself up to his bunk, resting her feet on the bed below her.

"Shoah, anytime," Bells said flirtatiously, her face inches from his ear. "Yah know wheah tah find meh. In da meantime..." She yanked his covers off. "Up!"

"An' no screwin' edda." Twirls came up beside her sister. "We'se already got one Conlon messin' around."

Bells rolled her eyes. "It's just a bit o' harmless floatin'."

The pair walked to their bunk in the corner of the room, Bells collapsing down on her bottom bunk with a yawn. "Damn I'se tired. Why'd we get up again?"

"Yeah, well, you an' 'harmless floatin' neva work out well," Twirls replied, ignoring her sister's statement. She climbed up to the top and hung upside down over the edge, her hat and hair hanging down.

"Wha' is dat suppose tah mean?" Bells asked. "Are yah implying somethin'?"

Twirls raised an eyebrow. She loved her sister, but it sometimes tired her to always be the practical one. Than again, Bells was plenty reckless enough for the both of them.

"St. Patty's Day, dis year," she reminded dryly. "Do yah call that harmless?"

Bells bit her lip and tried to recollect the memory. Twirls held back a laugh.

"Would dat be the night involving me, Pockets, and-"

"-half da beer in Brooklyn?" Twirls finished, swinging herself upright. "Yeah, dat's da one."

"Okay, I see yoah point," Bells said. "But me and Pockets- it's just fun. Nuttin' would eva come outta dat."

"I'se still always right," Twirls said with an obnoxious grin.

"Eh now, don' get carried away," Bells said. "I have my moments."

Commotion rose from the center of the room and with a cry of "Laundry!" a bundle of fabric came flying towards the bunk. Twirls caught it and called, "Thanks, Suds!" to the washer newsboy.

"Hate these," she grumbled, picking up her skirt.

"So don't wear it tahday," Bells replied, looking down at her own ensemble; black trousers cut off at the knee, a white undershirt and a brown, loose collared shirt over top, tied in the center of her chest since there were no buttons. "I'm not."

"But I didn't yestaday," Twirls reminded, glancing down at her blue cutoffs, black buttondown and vest. "Kinda grimy."

"Oh yeah, 'cause there's so many people tah impress."

The sisters followed the horde of boys down the stairs, the raucous noise indicating the start of another day. Outside, the early morning air was bright and crisp, still cool, but warming as the sun continued to rise up over the city. It would be another warm, early summer day. Bells and Twirls ran to catch up with Pockets and his little brother, Brooklyn's young yet sneaky spy, Bat Ears.

"Mornin'!" Twirls greeted as she and Bells fell into step beside the brothers.

Pockets yawned and replied, "I should beh sleepin'. But no, the lass over heah had to go and ring that damn bell!"

Bells rolled her eyes.

"You Irish boys," she said with a laugh.

"Don' you go testin' me, lass," he retorted.

Pockets was born and had spent his early years in Ireland. Now seventeen, he'd been living on Brooklyn's streets long enough to develop the trademark accent, but his brogue still shone through, particularly strong when he was mad, or any time he was dealing with Bells, usually.

"Sorry," Bells said with a shrug. "Jus' doing my job."

Pockets grumbled something unintelligible.

"Sorry, wha' was dat?" Twirls asked. "Didn' catch it."

"Nuttin'," Pockets said hastily. "Absolutly nuttin'."

Bat Ears giggled, clearly catching his brother's retort. "It was some'in not so nice."

"Pockets, watch what yah say," Twirls warned. "Yah know Spot would soak yah if he hoid dat, since you were referring to his baby sista."

"Hoid what?"

Spot appeared in front of the four, jumping down from a statue base. The crowd of Brooklynites, who had been following the quartet, stopped, but Spot gave them permission to go on with a wave of his hand.

"Hoid what?" he repeated, turning to Pockets.

"Nuttin'," replied, shooting a look at his little brother. "Jus' me complainin' about yoah goilies ova heah."

"Um, that would be _goily_," Twirls corrected. "Yoah mad at Bells, not me. I didn' have anything tah do wit dis."

"Yoah still both a real pain," Pockets mumbled, so only Spot could hear, and possibly Bat Ears, who heard everything.

"Don' remind me," came the reply from Spot. "I've been dealin' wit 'em for how long now?"

After Spot had run away from home when he was ten, he tried to forget his past. He felt no remorse leaving home, with his alcoholic father and frail mother who overworked herself to provide for the family. He was glad to make his own way. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the guilt of leaving behind his sisters, to young at eight to have to care for themselves in such an environment.. And that was why when, four years later when he was the right hand man of Brooklyn's leader, in line to be the next king, he went back for them.

He had found the twelve year old twins living on the streets, homeless and alone after their father's disappearance and their mother's death to cholera. Instead of sending them to live under the care of the Queen of Queens- the safest place for working girls in the city- or to the orphanage, something inside of him caved and the arrangement was made for the twins to live with the Brooklynites. The boys in turn swore with blood to protect the only two girl newsies in the territory, and so now, four years later, the sixteen year old twins were still the only two girls, running around carrying the banner and revealing in their role as the "princesses" of Brooklyn.

"So, headlines any good tahday?" Pockets asked a passing Brooklynite as the group entered the distribution center. The newsie shrugged.

"Da usual," the boy replied. He was a little guy, maybe eleven, and went white when he saw Spot ."N-Nuttin' to bad, nuttin' to excitin' edda."

Pockets nodded curtly and the newsboy went on his way, looking warily back at Spot as he ran off. Pockets stalked off to go get his papes.

"Don' scare da kid!" Twirls said. "Yah could talk instead jus' standin' there like dat."

"Don' tell me wha' tah do," Spot said. "Yoah lucky I'm lettin' yah two even sell tahday. You'se especially, Bells. Did ya even sell yestaday, or were you an' Pockets to busy suckin' face?"

"Foah God's sake, nuttin' is goin' on between us!" Bells cried, throwing her hands up in the air and huffing for dramatic effect.

"I tried to keep track of 'er, but she ran off halfway through da day." Twirls held up her hands, declaring innocence. "Don' blame dis one on me."

"Thanks. Beh a good sista," Bells snapped back sarcastically. "I'm feelin' da love."

"A'right, enough. Twoils is right, Bells; use yoah head. And Twoils; stop bein' bitchy." He turned and then added, "An' Twoils, you'se with Pockets tahday."

Both girls groaned.

"Come on!" Bells whined. "We'se a team! Yah don' just break us apart!"

Twirls snorted. "Team alright. An' dat's no fair! What'd I do?"

"Nuttin', and dat's the point," Spot replied. "I know you'se won't do anything stupid wit him."

"Who, me?" Pockets asked, returning with a large stack of papes. He split the pile three ways and held out a hand.

"Pay up," he said, wiggling his fingers. Bells and Twirls handed his coins and shouldered two of the piles. Pockets, every day, bought the papes for the girls and they payed him back; he was the little gentleman.

"A'right!" Spot called loudly, drawing the attention of all of his boys. "Keep an eye out foah trouble an' be back at da docks by sundown. Now carry da banna!"

With a raucous cheer, the boys set out.

"Pockets, Twoils is going wit you tahday," Spot said. Both twins looked glum at the prospect, Twirls because she hated the boy and Bells because she loved him. Or rather, time with him. "Bells is stayin' wit me and Bat Ears."

Bells rolled her eyes.

"Yah suck, yah know dat?" Bells complained, moodily walking out of the center.

"Yah told meh dat already," Spot reminded, shouldering his papes and walking after her. "Memba?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Web of Lives**

* * *

><p><strong>Distribution: <strong>Links only- please DM to ask for approval.

**Disclaimer: **Newsies and all characters and property of the Disney Corporation. All rights reserved. Writing is not intended for profit.

**Rights: **Though "Newsies" the film is not mine, the storyline and subsequent chapters are. Please do not plagarize.

**NOTE: There is a story entitled 'Brooklyn's Secrets' by the author iheartron547. This is an old account of mine that I shared with a friend, and we coauthored a story. 'Brooklyn's Secrets' was mine alone, and this story is a revised version of such. Due to lack on login information, I was not able to delete 'Brooklyn's Secrets' before posting this story. IT IS NOT PLAGIARISM BECAUSE IT IS MY OLD WORK. Please understand.**

* * *

><p>CHAPTER TWO<p>

Headline's weren't horrible, but Twirls still was embellishing a bit.

"Fire rages! Oiphans killed! A few gone missing!"

The actual headline read 'Fire at Orphanage: All Saved.' While the first part sold, the whole saving and no death part was a major turnaway. So yes, she was embellishing. And yes, a little more than a bit. But really, who cared about the heroics of the firehorse when no one died?

A pedestrian passing by stopped and said, "One pape, please." Twirls, being polite as the gentleman in a top hat and looked like a big wig, hanged the man a pape and took his money with a chipper, "Many thanks, mista.". The man walked away without a backward glance. Just to be safe, Twirls huffed. "No one's got any manners any moah."

"Welcome ta New Yoak," Pockets said. coming to her side. "Let's head ova by da fact'ries. Da woikers have break an' maybe dad bulls won' be crawlin' around so much."

Twirls nodded.

"Good idea," she agreed and both newsies scampered down the nearby alley and towards the river line, where the industrial district made its factory workers, sweaty and covered in soot and dirt, were indeed on a break, just as Pockets had predicted.

"Good call, comin' heah," Twirls said. Pockets grinned.

"Seh, I ain't so stupid," he replied boastfully. Twirls pursed her lips.

"Hey, don' get carrieid ahway," she said, holding up a hand in a signal to stop. "Yah picked a good spot tah sell. No one said anythin' 'bout yah no' bein' stupid."

It took Pockets a moment to process what her diss had mean, just proving Twirls' point. When he did get it, he grumbled, no so quietly, about "goils and dere mouths bein' in da wrong place." Twirls rolled her eyes and went to sell.

She observed as she sold that many more workmen were purchasing papes, eagerly flipping through the pages in search of an article.

"Wha' is everybody lookin' foah, mista?" she asked as man as he held out a few coins, which she exchanged for a pape.

"Oh, we were jus' looking to see if old man Hearst ran anythin' on the newsie rabble," he aswered. Twirls' eyes widened in shock and fought the urge not to show her baffled self.

"An' wha' rabble would dat beh?" she asked, trying to act nonchalant.

The man waved the pape.

"That's why I bought this," he explained and went to sit beside his fellow workers. Twirls ran off before they discovered there was no story and started asking for their money back.

The rest of the day passed by and Twirls heard no more of a rabble, but Pockets seemed even more tense as they neared the docks at the end of the day. The majority of the Brooklynites were already there, milling around and jumping into the river.

Twirls quickly scanned the swarm and found her sister sitting on the dock, dangling her legs in the water. She looked so serene, just staring off across the river onto the skyline of Manhattan. Twirls, smiling devilishly as a thought entered her mind, walked swiftly towards her.

Creeping up silently from behind, Twirls yelled, "Boo!" and when Bells jumped, dramatically, like she usually reacted to things, Twirls pushed her into the water below with a satisfying splash.

_"Twoils!"_

Bells' scream pierced the air as newsies who heard dashed over to see what was going on.

"Twoils!" Bells cried again, swimming to the side of the dock and, with the help of two of the boys, heaved herself out. She stood up, sopping wet, and gave her sister the infamous Conlon glare. Her hat had fallen off when she had hit the water and one of the boys who had been swimming tapped her ankle and handed it to her. She jammed it back on her head angrily, the water dripping down into her eyes.

"Chilly?" Twirls asked, holding back laughter, which came out once she looked at her sister again. Bells looked ridiculous. "It's a good look foah yah."

Bells shook her head. The newsboys around her were chortling. She shot them a look and the noise stopped instantly.

"Wha' is goin' on?"

All heads turned to see Spot, flanked by Pockets, standing on the bulkhead above them. Pockets smirked at the site of a sopping wet Bells, which she returned with an offense hand gesture.

"Back tah dah house," Spot said commandingly. "An' no stayin' around and spyin'. Yah know wha' will happen if I catch yah. Which I will."

Heads nodded and the newsies left, running off in all direction, making their usual amount of noise as they did so. Even those older than Spot respected, if not feared, him. He was the King of Brooklyn, chosen by the last leader, and for good reason. That was why all listened to him.

"Now foah you'se two." Spot turned to his sisters, who hadn't gone running. They tended to never listen to him, even when the rest did. Bells had pulled her cap off and was ringing out her hair.

"Wha' the hell happened?"

He jumped down, Pockets behind him, as Twirls replied, "Jus' havin' a lil' harmless fun."

"You'se a right-" Bells began to call her sister several unladylike names before Spot cut her off.

"Hey now," he warned, directing it to Bells. "Get yoah cap on. We'se got a lot tah talk about."

Bells tied her hair up with her now damp ribbon and pulled her hat over it.

"Okay?"

"Fine."

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Now," Spot continued, "movin' on. I'm guessing you'se hoid some'in about a rabble somewheah tahday."

Twirls nodded.

"I was gonna ask yah about dat," Twirls said. "Wha' happened?"

"Dat's why I sent 'dem home." He jabbed his finger over his shoulder in the general direction of the lodging house. "Cowboy's comin' ova an' so's Gambla, from Queens. We, meaning them two and me and Pockets, need tah talk."

Bells and Twirls looked at each other, and then back at Pockets and Spot.

"So why areh yah botherin' tah tell us any o' dis?" Bells asked. "Does it involve us?"

"Nah, it doesn'," Spot replied. "But I need yah tah make shoah no one leaved dah house. No one can know wha' is goin' on."

"So yah orda us tah babysit, but won' tell us wha' da heck is goin' on?" Twirls questioned.

"Exactly," Pockets said as the twins moaned.

"Come on, Spot!" Twirls pleaded. "Why can' weh know wha' yoah talkin' about?"

"Stop whinin'," Spot ordered. "An' you can' know foah da same reasons da rest o' da New York newsies can' know."

"Why would dat beh?" Bells questioned angrily.

"It'll cause trouble, lass," Pockets replied.

"Why, cause we goils?" Bells questioned.

"Mahbe," Pockets challenged. "Or mahbe cause yah got such a big mouth!"

Twirls looked taken back. Pockets and Bells never argued.

"Wha' are yah saying?" Bells' temper rose with the volume of her voice. "Dat I can' be trusted tah keep a secret?"

"A'right, enough," Spot said, stepping between the bickering duo. "Pockets, shut up. An' Bells-" his tone softened slightly as he turned to his sister. Well, soft for Spot. "Everyone's gonna know soon. Jus' trust meh and do wha' I'm askin' yah tah."

"If everyone's gonna know anyway, why can't we just find out now?" she demanded. "Call me a big mouth all ya want, but ya know at the end o'da day I'm jus' as loyal tah Brooklyn and da newsies as any o' yous."

"I neva said ya weren't," he answered. He looked toward the base of the bridge, which was in view. He held up his hand to block the setting sun from glaring into his eyes and said, "Dere heah." He turned to look at sisters, standing close together, their arms crossed defensively as they glared at him.

"Alright, fine," he finally said after several tense moments of silence, his resolve breaking. "But you'se betta promise to keep yoah mouths shut until I say it's okay tah talk about it."

Both girls nodded, their eyes earnestly wide, clearly pleased and slightly shocked he was allowing them to stay.

"No worries," Bells said, sitting down on a crate, pulling at Pockets' hand; he sank to the ground next to her.

"I promise," Twirls said, giving her brother a grateful look. "Thanks."

Spot nodded, part of him relieved to have Twirls involved. His sister was uncannily smart and had a way of logical thinking and rationale that he knew he would probably welcome.

The four turned as Grace 'Gambler' Marquez, the Queen of Queens, made her way down the dock, her second-in-command Concetta 'Razor Blades' Conti a few steps behind her. Queens was dominantly a female territory, a safe haven for orphan girls and runaways who sought to make a living that didn't involve selling their bodies: most of the Queens girls were newsies or wash-girls, working in factories and living together in apartments. Gambler Marquez was a formidable leader and had earned respect among the other male-dominated territories for her daunting fighting style and no-nonsense attitude.

"_Buenas noches_," Gambler greeted, spitting into her hand as Spot did the same, the two exchanging the customary handshake. "Kelly here yet?"

"Right behind ya," Pockets answered, nodding in greeting to both girls. "How are ya, Razor Blades?"

Razor Blades was a tall Italian girl who earned her nickname for the three thin lines of scars she had on her cheek, mementos from a fight with her abusive father when she was younger; she nodded in greeting.

The group turned at the sound of boots clomping on the dock, Jack 'Cowboy' Kelly of Manhattan sauntering his way towards them.

"So yah brought Mouth ahlong witout tellin' meh," Spot called out. "Why?"

"Yah know why, so stop bein' stupid," Jack snapped back, exchanging a spit-shake with Spot. "Mouth heah'll talk his way out o' anything an' heh's got da connections. Plus, you'se let the princesses come along, so we'se all for surprises tonight."

Wha' connections?, Twirls wondered, watching the exchange with interest. Wha' connection does a newsie got?

"So it was yah that planted the story then," Gambler butt in, getting straight to the point as she addressed David. "Wheah'd yah find a pape to do that?"

"The Sun was the first to run it," the boy called Mouth explained with no trace of an accent.

"An' den da odda papes picked it up," Jack finished. "Hopefully it scared old Hoist and Pulitzer some."

"Some, but no' enough," Spot said.

Bells leaned close to Pockets and whispered, "Why would the newsies be needing to scare Hoist and Pulitzer? The strike was only three months ago."

"Just listen," Pockets said. "I'll fill ya in later."

"What do yah mean 'not enough'?" Gambler questioned. "I lost two girls to da bulls durin' that rabble."

"An' we'se woiking on gettin' 'em out," Jack retorted. "So stop whinin'."

"Me? Whinin'? Yeah right, Kelley," Gambler replied, shaking her head. "_Usted tiene más de una chica de lo que soy."_

"Try some English," Cowboy said angrily. "Damn immigrants."

Both Gambler and Razor Blades made a move to lunge at Kelly, clearly offended, but Pockets stood up to intervene; he too shot an offended glance at Jack. Cowboy needed to let David do the talking.

"A'right you'se two, calm down," Spot said commandingly. "We'se got a real problem heah an' I don' need yah two goin' at it like a married couple."

Twirls stifled a laugh.

"Hey, you heah somethin'?" Bells asked suddenly, hopping up from her seat. "Sounds like boots on da dock. Brooklyn?"

"Dunno," Spot said, his hand going to rest on his cane. "Pockets, take a look."

"I'll go," Twirls offered. "Pockets is more needed den I am, and besides, if it's a Brooklyn, I can handle it."

Spot nodded and waved his sister off before returning to matters at hand. Twirls made her way down the dock, looking left and right for any sign of a sneaky little newsie. She clearly wasn't paying enough attention as she turned her head to try to find the source of a scuffle noise and ran smack into something hard.

"AW! Damn, dat hoit!" she cried, clutching her forehead.

"Yoah in pain?" the masculine stranger's voice shot back. "Yah need tah watch wheah yoah goin'!"

"Sorry," Twirls replied, rubbing her forehead. She realized with a jolt that her hat had fallen off and her hair had tumbled down. She watched in horror as the stranger bent down, picked up her hat and offered it back to her, saying, "Heah's yoah- Jesus, yoah a goil!"

Twirls' thoughts were racing.

"Um, yeah, thanks," Twirls mumbled. She took her hat and stuck it on her head before turning to walk away.

"Hey! Wait!"

Twirls silently moaned and turned back reluctantly, looking up to the meet the stranger's gaze.

"Wha' do yah want?" she snapped, but her heart was thumping wildly. "You'se a 'Hattan? 'Cause yoah not Brooklyn. So get lost."

The boy, obviously a newsie but not a Brooklynite, was cute. Majorly. Twirls took in his curly brown hair, calm eyes and his scruffy, typical newsboy appearance. She had to smile at the fact that he wore his suspenders hanging down around his ankles.

"Wha' do yah want?" she asked again, folding her arms across her chest.

"Yoah a goil," the boy said again.

Twirls shrugged.

"Yoah point?" she said.

"Yoah a goil," he said slowly, "an' dressed as a newsie, in Brooklyn. No' Queens."

Twirls glared.

"I'm Mush, by da way," the boy said quickly as Twirls took a step forward. "'Hattan. I'm look foah Cowboy- uh, Jack Kelly. He's meeting with Spot Conlon. Yah seen 'em?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, down dis way," Twirls said, flustered. She scolded herself as the pair made their way back down the dock. She'd been living with a houseful of boys for the past four years and was acting like a stammering idiot around this one newsie. What had gotten into her?

"Mush! Yoah heah!" Jack cried, suddenly noticing him.

"Yeah," Mush said sheepishly, looking down. "Got lost." Jack rolled his eyes and Twirls guessed that Mush getting lost wasn't an unusual occurrence.

"Yeah, so's I was walking tah dah logdin' house but ran inta um-"

"Twoils," she offered up. "He was da noise we hoid."

"Can we focus please?" Gambler demanded, clearly displeased with the interruption.

"Okay, I hate tah be annoying, but what da hell is goin' on?" Bells asked. "Dis whole thing has been criptic and Twirls can' really help unless we know what da hell you'se are all talkin' bout."

"Da Bronx," Gambler said flatly before Spot could interject and tell Bells to shut up. "We'se talking 'bout da Bronx. Daggers Smith's been stirring up trouble."

Twirls thought for a moment. The Bronx? That was Queens' tough next door neighbor, Daggers Smith's territory. And, next to Brooklyn, it was the most feared. Its newsies were rough and tough and Daggers was toughest of all, if not cruel. Territory leaders, Spot in particular, didn't get along with him.

"Daggers Smith," Twirls said thoughtfully. "Isn't he da one who Bells hooked-"

"Yeah, dat's him," Spot cut her off sharply, clearly not wanting to relive that day.

"So, wha's wrong wit da Bronx, odda then Daggas?" Twirls asked.

"It's no' jus' da Bronx that's da problem," Jack began. "It's Hoist and Pulitzer and da papes. Dere no' sellin'."

"Nah, I did real good tahday-" Bells broke in.

"No' newsie sales," Spot explained. "Da Bronx sells da Joinal, Hoist's pape, same as us."

"Yeah, I know dat."

"But da distribution centas ova dere are closin', one by one, not like heah. Hoist and Pulitzer, accourdin' tah what we've picked up, are trying tah stop usin' newsies." Gambler dropped the bombshell and let the news sink in.

"Den who da hell is gonna sell da papes?" Bells questioned. "Foah rich guys, dey seem dumb."

"Bike boys," Jack said flatly, "deliverin' straight tah da door."

"Dat's stupid," was all Twirls could think to say, she was so stunned.

"Yeah, well, it's startin' in da Bronx," Spot went on.

"So why is Kelly, you, and Gambla gettin' all wound up about it, wit da meetin's and all. It's like da mafia," she said. Spot scowled.

"Tell meh yah did not just compare me tah some Italian group," he said.

"Sorry."

Spot glared.

"So why areh yah guys gettin' all in a knot about it?"

"Cause if da Bronx boys can' sell dere, Daggas is jus' gonna look foah anudda territory tha move tah," Jack answered. "Yah understand why we're tryin' tah attack Pulitzer and Hoist foist radda den fightin'?"

Twirls nodded. That was another thing nobody knew about her brother. Even though he (and his cane) was a great fighter and the Brooklynites were known for their toughness and strength, Spot hatted the battles. He only used it as a last resort, only used it if he was positive he could win.

Twirls understood why he wanted to attack through press first, especially after the strike. Many Brooklynites had been caught and sent to the refuge, and breaking them out hadn't been easy, which is why Twirls and Bells had to be so careful around the bulls, since they took part in the escape.

But Twirls knew that her brother wasn't going soft, just because he didn't want to fight. Spot was anything but soft.

"So wha's gonna happen?" she asked.

"Right now, we'se jus' trying tah scare old man Hoist, like Pulitzer wit da strike," Spot told her. "And we'se watchin' da Bronx."

"Is dere anything I can do?"

Spot was about to say no, but changed his mind, remembering something. He decided to keep quiet, though, until the other leaders had gone.

"Dat's what we'se trying tah figure out right now," Gambler said. "What da next move is gonna be. In da meantime, everyboyd's gotta be careful. Daggers is a heartless bastard who cares 'bout nuttin' but himself. He shows no mercy. _Nada. A su alrededor, estás muerto."_

The group nodded: even if they couldn't understand her, the tone of her voice expressed her message clearly.

Spot looked across the river at the setting sun.

"Let's call it a night," he said. "You'se should get home befoah dark. Make sure yoah gangs are all safe."

Jack nodded,and spit in his hand and held it to Spot, saying, "Till next time, Conlon."

Spot returned the spit shake and said, "Always a pleasah, Kelley."

"Let's go, Mush, Mouth." Mush gave one last look back at Twirls, who felt her face go warm. She prayed she wasn't blushing.

Spot gave a nod to Jack in goodbye as he ran off, flanked by Mush and Mouth, before turning to Gambler, exchanging a similar goodbye before the two girls took off in the opposite direction.

"Alright," Spot said. "Let's go home."


	3. Chapter 3

**Web of Lives**

* * *

><p><strong>Distribution: <strong>Links only- please DM to ask for approval.

**Disclaimer: **Newsies and all characters and property of the Disney Corporation. All rights reserved. Writing is not intended for profit.

**Rights: **Though "Newsies" the film is not mine, the storyline and subsequent chapters are. Please do not plagarize.

**NOTE: There is a story entitled 'Brooklyn's Secrets' by the author iheartron547. This is an old account of mine that I shared with a friend, and we coauthored a story. 'Brooklyn's Secrets' was mine alone, and this story is a revised version of such. Due to lack on login information, I was not able to delete 'Brooklyn's Secrets' before posting this story. IT IS NOT PLAGIARISM BECAUSE IT IS MY OLD WORK. Please understand.**

**AN: I just saw Newsies on Broadway and fell utterly in love. They did change some elements from the movie and one character I loved so much I have chosen to include in the story. _ Minor spoiler: _Jack is given a new love interest, a young reporter named Katherine. As this is set about 3 months post-strike (which she was involved in in the show) they are dating. Any other changes I will let you know.**

* * *

><p>The next morning found Twirls, with a half asleep Bells, tramping through Brooklyn on the way to Manhattan. So being Spot's messenger girl wasn't quite what she had in mind when she offered to help, but at least she knew what was going on-unlike Bells, who's sense of direction was infamous for being nonexistent.<p>

"So remind me ahgan why we'se goin' tah 'Hattan?" Bells asked sleepily, as they pushed their way through the crowds of the morning market.

"Because," Twirls said, grabbing her sister's wrist so they wouldn't lose each other, "Spot needs us tah tell Kelley some'in."

"An' why couldn't he go himself?" Bells questioned further, wrinkling her nose in distaste as they passed through the fish market. "God it smells. We shoulda taken the alleys."

"Breath through yoah mouth," Twirls replied, still pulling Bells along behind her. Once they were out of the crowds, Bells promptly pulled away from her sister's tight restraint.

"A'right, ova da bridge we go then," Twirls said. She started walked, heading for the waterline, but Bells stayed rooted to her place.

"C'mon!"

"Hold on," Bells interjected, holding up a finger. She reached up and yanked hard at her cap; her blond hair fell down around her shoulders, which she finger-combed through, fluffing her bangs once before beginning to walk.

"Now we can go," she said, passing her sister and shoving the cap deep into her pocket. Twirls ran to catch up.

"Wha' was that foah?" she questioned.

"We'se goin' tah see Kelley and da boys, right?" Bells said.

Twirls nodded.

"An' I'm no' goin' tah see all den fine newsboys lookin' like a laundry goil," Bells explained.

"Guess yoah ova Pockets," Twirls stated flatly.

"You can't get ova what you were neva foah to begin with," Bells replied.

She just shook her head at her sister. It was clear Bells was a little to fond of the male gender.

The pair made their way over the bridge as the sun rose and the day grew hotter. Eventually, Twirls followed her sister's lead and removed her hat as well. It always didn't hurt to look good, and Twirls had to admit the Manhattan boys were a fine looking bunch.

"So," Twirls said once they reached the Manhattan base of the bridge. "We'se gotta find Jack."

"He could beh anywheah in dis city!" Bells waved her hands over her head as if to emphasize New York's vastness. "It ain't exaclty tiny."

"I know dat," Twirls replied, agitated. "But wheah do we look? Spot mentioned some'in 'bout a statue by da distribution office that tey meet at between shifts."

Bells nodded. "It's downtown a bit."

They walked until they entered the craziness of the financial district of Manhattan. Large office buildings towered overhead, gleaming like a beacon, as men in starchily pressed suits hurried by, avoiding the rabble of poorer citizens making there away around the metropolis. Among all this Bells and Twirls could here the familiar cries of the newsies.

"Penny a pape!"

"Baby born wit three heads!"

Twirls smirked. She knew for a fact that it was actually two.

But among the crowds and business, one thing was prominent: the gold dome of Pulitzer's office. To that Twirls pointed.

"There!" she said, jabbing Bells in the side for her eyes had closed. "Isn't the statue close by?"

Bells shrugged.

"Don' know, don' really care," she responded.

"Yoah the one who led us down here!" she cried.

"Yea, well, last time I was here, I was a bit unda da weather," Bells replied cryptically. "Pretty shoah his name was Specs o' some'in but I don't rememba..."

"Jesus, Bells," Twirls moaned. "Where _haven't _you slept with a newsie?"

"Queens. An' yoah makin' dis to hard," she complained. "Dis is simple. Find a newsie, find Jack, deliva the message and off we can go."

"Okay, let's go wit dat den," Twirls said, nodding. She turned to look around and felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Excuse me," said a girl, about their age or a year or two older, with curly brown hair and a sweet face. "I heard you say Jack...as in Kelly? I'm looking for him myself."

Twirls blinked, uncertain of how to respond. This girl looked as if she came from money; her shirtwaist appeared to be of fine cotton and her skirt probably cost more money than either twin would ever see in her lifetime.

Bells, ever forward, voiced Twirls' thoughts. "Not to be rude," she said, "you seem real nice, but why is ya talking to us? An' more importantly, how'd ya know Jack? He ain't usually associatin' wit um, well-"

"Girls like me?" The stranger smirked and held out a hand. "Katherine Plumber, Jack Kelly's well, girlfriend."

Twirls' eyes widened as Bells said, "Wait, 'scuse me?"

"I guess you weren't around during the strike much," the girl Katherine went on. "You must be Spot's sisters. The 'princesses of Brooklyn,' am I right? I've heard the boys mention you."

"Yeah, well, Spot neva mention you," Bells replied. "An' yea, he kept us on the odda side o' da bridge durin' a lot of the strike stuff. To big a risk o' getting picked up by da bulls."

"Well, the refuges are no more!" Katherine said brightly.

"Yea, but delinquent jails still exist," Bells retorted. Twirls, taking pity on Katherine as her sister rudely shot her down again and again, finally broke in.

"Why don't we look foah Jack all togedda," she suggested. "Sooner or latta, we'se bound tah run in tah one newsie who knows who's we'se are."

Katherine nodded, and the trio began walking down the sidewalk, avoiding the crowds and attempting to stay in the shade. It was hot.

"Eh! Kitty Kat! Ova heah!"

Bells' head turned at the shout and, a few yards away, she saw a boy in newsie garb motioning for a gaggle of boys in the street to come join him. Bells stood and nudged Twirls. Katherine smiled and motioned for the two to follow her.

She walked briskly down the sidewalk to the boy. His friends were still fighting their way through the crowd. She reached out a hand to tap him on the shoulder when WHACK! He swung his hand back and hit Bells, who had been trailing behind Katherine, across the face.

"Oww!" Bells put a hand to her face. It was sore to the touch.

"Oh, shit!" The boy had turned and saw whom he had hit. "Are yah okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine, just kinda a wimp," Twirls replied to the unknown boy, kneeling down beside her sister.

"Race, man, wha' are yah doin' tah da goil?" a voice said and Bells heard the thump of boots. She had sank to her knees, eyes closed, gritting her teeth against the pain. She had always been a bit of a wimp, yes, but the boy could hit.

"I didn' do nuttin'!"

"Yah bummah, yah wacked a goil!" The voice sounded familiar to Twirls.

"Really, Race, quite the way to make an introduction," Katherine said wryly, kneeling beside Twirls. "Is she ok?

"Yea, are yah okay?" the voice asked. Twirls turned and saw the curly-haired Manhattan boy she had literally run into the night before.

"Are yah okay?" he repeated, holding out a hand to help her up. Twirls took it and the boy pulled her off her knees.

"Peachy," Bells replied. "Thanks foah the assistance."

Katherine held out a hand, which Bells gratefully took, brushing the dirt off her knees. She felt a hand brush her bum and turned around, quick and lightning, grabbing the stranger's wrist and twisting it painfully.

"Goddamn!" The boy exclaimed. He had a cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth. "Jus' tryna help!"

"Touch my ass again and you won't live to see tomorrah," Bells threatened.

"Well, yoah face looks fine. Nuttin' a lil' ice won' fix. No permadent damage heah," Race replied, pulling his hand away.

"Ah, Docta Mush tah da rescue!" one of his comrades, a boy with shaggy blond hair and an eyepatch, taunted.

Bells, eyes still locked with Race's, replied, "You'se better hope my brudda don't heah about dis or yoah face won't be looking quite as pretty as mine."

"Oh, yea, cuz I'm so scared o' some punk," Race said. Behind him, his friends had begun to whisper, pointing at the twins. One leaned over to ask Katherine something, and she nodded in confirmation.

"Uh, Race?" The boy with the eyepatch stammered. "Stop talking, man. Trust me."

Bells smiled devilishly, realizing the other boys had caught on to who exactly she and her sister were. "I'm Bells. And you know Twirls, I guess. Spot Conlon's sistas. Nice tah meet yah." She held out a hand to Race, who had suddenly gone very white. Mush, the boy Bells recognized from the previous night, stepped forward.

"Good to see ya again," he said, giving her hand a shake. "An' these bummahs-" he pointed over his shoulder to the three boys-"are Skittery, Kid Blink an' Specs. I see you'se already met Katherine."

Twirls waved nervously, while Bells smiled broadly. She looked them over and couldn't help but smirk when she recognized Specs.

"Long time, no see," Specs said, giving her a wink. "Been keepin' outta trouble?"

"You wish," Twirls replied.

Bells smiled, and then winced, realizing that the laughing made her face hurt more. Not a good idea.

"Hey, we'se jus got done sellin' da mornin' pape, and were goin' foah some breakfast. Wanna come an' we'll get yah some ice foah yoah face?" Mush offered. Turning to Katherine, he added, "Jacobi's. Jack there, think he's been lookin' foah ya."

The group began to walk, and Bells took hold of her sister's arm, distancing themselves from the boys and Katherine by a few feet.

"Mush is cute," Bells said. "Go foah it. Seriously. If you don't, I will."

"Do yah _think _'bout anything else?" Twirls replied, pulling her arm out of her sister's grasp. "We'se heah to do a job, not tah pick up a beau."

"I'm good at multitasking."

* * *

><p><strong>Review?<strong>

**Much love, Bells**


	4. Chapter 4

**Web of Lives**

* * *

><p><strong>Distribution: <strong>Links only- please DM to ask for approval.

**Disclaimer: **Newsies and all characters and property of the Disney Corporation. All rights reserved. Writing is not intended for profit.

**Rights: **Though "Newsies" the film is not mine, the storyline and subsequent chapters are. Please do not plagarize.

**NOTE: There is a story entitled 'Brooklyn's Secrets' by the author iheartron547. This is an old account of mine that I shared with a friend, and we coauthored a story. 'Brooklyn's Secrets' was mine alone, and this story is a revised version of such. Due to lack on login information, I was not able to delete 'Brooklyn's Secrets' before posting this story. IT IS NOT PLAGIARISM BECAUSE IT IS MY OLD WORK. Please understand.**

**AN: I just saw Newsies on Broadway and fell utterly in love. They did change some elements from the movie and one character I loved so much I have chosen to include in the story. _Minor spoiler: _Jack is given a new love interest, a young reporter named Katherine. As this is set about 3 months post-strike (which she was involved in in the show) they are dating. Any other changes I will let you know.**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER FOUR<strong>

The group walked a few more blocks, cutting down alleyways and sidestreets. Bells winked at Twirls before skipping ahead to join Specs and his friends, leaving Twirls to walk with Mush. She shot her sister the evil eye before turning to look at Mush. She felt her cheeks flush as he said, "I'm suprised yah remembahed me."

"Can' forget yah," she said. "It's been wha', fifteen hours?"

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that made Twirls melt inside. _Oh, God, I'm turnin' inta Bells._

"But yoah eyes," Mush added, his voice suddenly taking on a serious tone. "Can' forget those. Neva."

Twirls blushed and looked down.

"But don' worry," he went on, a grin spreading back across his face. "The rest o' yah is pretty memorable to."

Twirls bit her lip as she realized he was flirting with her.

"So," she said quickly, changing the topic. "Yah want tah help me?"

Mush shrugged.

"Yah, shoah, wha' do yah need?"

"It's moah who I need," Twirls said.

"Who?" Mush's brow knitted together in puzzlement.

"Jack Kelley," Twirls replied. "I'se got a message foah him."

"Like I told Kitty Kat, he'll be at Jocobi's wit everybody else foah lunch."

"You'se guys take lunch break?" Twirls asked. "Man, Cowboy goes easy on you'se."

"I'm shoah Spot takes it easy on his baby sistas."

Twirls snorted. "Yeah, an' Mouth ain't annoying."

They were silent after that, wrapped in their own thoughts, oblivious to the noises around them. Twirls was shocked when she heard bells overhead as Mush led her into a restaurant.

The room was crowded and Twirls could hear the clanking of cups and the cling of plates at the staff of what appeared to be three waiters bustled around the tables spread throughout the room. Most of the noise, though, seemed to be coming from the center of the room where three tables had been pushed together and chairs crammed around all sides, most seats taken by newsies.

"Welcome tah Jacobi's," Mush said, letting go of Twirls' hand. In a lounder voice, he called, "Hey, fellas!"

The newsboys seated around the tables turned their heads in his directions and called out "Hellos" and "Heys" of their own.

" 'Eh Mush, how'd you end up wit two girls?" one newsie called.

Across the room, Jack Kelly was entertaining a table. He looked up at the sound of the commotion and his eyes brightened as he spotted Katherine. He jumped over the back of his chair and came over to her, sweeping her down in a dramatic kiss and the boys cat-called around him. When he came up, keeping an arm around a very red-faced Katherine, he asked, "So goils, what did I do tah deserve havin' two beautiful new additions tah my territory today?"

"My darlin' brudda sent us ova wit a message," Bells said. "But I don't know what it is, so if Twoils'll stop eye-fuckin' Mush, she can tell ya."

The comment earned Bells a swift kick to the back of the knees from Twirls as Jack said, "Mush, find Mouth, and you'se two, come wit me," he directed, leading Katherine and the pair over to a booth in a corner of the room, away from prying ears.

"Come inta my office den," Jack said, as the three girls took a seat. He waited to continue until Davey had returned. "Now wha' did yoah brudda want?"

"You let her stay foah stuff like this?" Bells asked, raising an eyebrow.

"My dad's Pulitzer," Katherine said. Twirls' jaw dropped open and Bells whistled. "You really found yoahself a keeper, Jacky."

"Yes, well, my father certainly doesn't approve," Katherine went on. "And seeing as I moved out and now work for _The Sun, _support myself and refuse service from my father, you maybe can stop being a bitch to me and see that I truly want to help."

Twirls smiled; she liked Katherine. Very few people had the guts to call Bells out on her hostility.

Jack looked fondly at his girlfriend before asking, "What did Conlon want?"

"He wanted me tah tell yah dat he wants tah meet tahmorrah 'cause two moah centers were shut down," Twirls said. "An' I'm guessin' Daggas ain't happy."

At her last comment, Jack's brow raised as he took out a cigar and lit it.

"Oh, wait, I knew dat," Bells but in. "I thought I didn't know."

"Well, maybe 'bout eight of us do," Twirls said.

"Let's keep it dat way," Jack said. "We don't need to stir up drama. Who went ova to see Gambler?"

"Pockets or Bat Ears, I think," Twirls said, biting her lip to try to remember exactly who.

"Bat Ears? Da little one?"

"He knows wha's goin' on," Bells defended. "Plus, he's our best spy."

Jack shrugged and put his cigar out in his water glass.

"I won' question Conlon," he said. "Ain' crazy enough."

"Good idea," Twirls agreed. "But really. Bat Ears is trus' worthy."

"No one's trus'worthy," Jack said, staring at her intently. "I woulda thought Spot told yah dat."

"He did," Twirls said, a little hurt to think he hadn't told her that. "But as much as he says it, he trusts people."

"Name one."

* * *

><p>While Brooklynites had their meeting spot be the docks and the Manhattan boys spent mounds of time by the Horace Greeley statue, the Queens girls spent time in a park not to far from the lodging house. To Spot it seemed like a ridiculous place for swarms of girls to gather, but what say did he have on the matter?<p>

He appeared oblivious to the many pairs of eyes that followed his form as he walked through the crowd toward Gambler. Whispering spread from girl to girl; Spot Conlon was a tasty bit of gossip for the Queens natives.

"Conlon."

Gambler stood up from the fountain edge she was sitting on and held out a hand to spit shake with Spot.

"Marquez," he said in reply, grasping her hand. "I've got news."

Gambler wiped her hand on her skirt, retorting, "News that' yah couldn't send Pockets wit?"

"I could, but I don' want all o' New York knowin'," Spot said icily. "Pockets can' always keep his mouth shut."

"Nah, but yah can leave 'em in charge o' Brooklyn," Gambler replied. "Smart. Wha' are yah on dat possessed yah tah do dat?"

Spot ignored her last remark.

"This is serious," he said gruffly, his hand going to the head of his cane.

Gambler rolled her eyes.

"Ease up," she said soothingly.

Spot tensed up even more and said through gritted teeth, "Dis is a serious-"

"Yeah, I know," Gambler said. "Now let's go somewheah a bi' moah private. As you said, not all o' New York needs tah know what's goin' on."

She stood up and the pair began to walk down the path towards the exit of the park when two frazzled looking and disheveled newsgirls stopped them in their path.

"Matches, Tarheels," Gambler greeted. "Wha' is it?"

The first girl, a petite redhead, was doubled over on her knees, out of breath from running so far to report the news to Gambler.

"Trouble...three blocks over from da distrabution centa...boys...Bronx," she wheezed out.

Spot felt Gambler instantly go rigid.

"Find any other goils on the street an' send dem back," she ordered. "I'll take a few oddas and sort dis out."

"I'm comin'," Spot said, but Gambler shook her head.

"I don' need yah in da mix," she said. "That'll jus' make things worse."

She was of course referring to the fact that Spot was any Bronx boy's mortal enemy. If they saw him, whatever was going on would never be resolved. Well, resolved meaning the fight won.

"Fine." Spot balled his hands into fists to keep his anger under control. "I'm not waiting around, though. Tonight, meeting. Be theah."

Gambler looked back over her shoulder. "It's gettin' bad, Conlon."

He nodded, gruffly. "I know. Kelly knows. Kat knows."

"Which means _The Sun _knows."

"Nuttin' will get printed til we'se want it to."

Gambler stopped and took a step closer to him.

"I'm not sure da papes are gonna work dis time," she said. Her icy, strong demeanor fell away and, for a moment, Spot could see the scared teenage girl underneath. "This may be bigga than us."

Spot, in a rare moment of comfort, squeezed her shoulder.

"It'll be fine."

* * *

><p>"Way tah be da bitch today," Jack said to Katherine. It was late; the two were on the roof of the lodging house with Mush and Race, looking out over the city. Katherine's apartment was a few blocks away, in the tenement next door to Davey's family's flat; she and Jack sometimes returned there, or other nights, if it got to be late, she simply stayed with the boys.<p>

"The one sister, Twirls, seemed nice enough," she replied, resting her head on Jack's shoulder. "The other didn't trust me, I could tell. I'm so tired of people not trusting me. I'm trying so hard to prove I'm not a snitch for my father."

"I think giving up your inheritance and movin' to da wrong side o' da tracks convinced most o' us," Race replied. "Well, me, I didn't need no more convincin'."

"Bells is also the biggest floit I'se eva met," Jack replied. "She don' make friend wit goils easily. She'll come around."

"I didn't even know Spot had sisters," Katherine admitted. "Shouldn't they be in...Queens? Right? That's where most of the girls go to work?"

"He didn't want 'em that close ta da Bronx," Jack said. "Spot an' Daggas _hate _each odda."

"Didn't Bells hook up wit Daggas at one point?" Mush asked. "Or was I so drunk I made dat up?"

"Nah, I rememba dat too," Race agreed. "Befoah da strike, though, when they hated each odda a lil less. Befoah Spot chose Jack ova Daggas as leada of it all."

"God, newsies politics are worse than the nation's," Katherine mused. "It's like a whole different world."


	5. Chapter 5

**Web of Lies**

* * *

><p><strong>Distribution: <strong>Links only- please DM to ask for approval.

**Disclaimer: **Newsies and all characters and property of the Disney Corporation. All rights reserved. Writing is not intended for profit.

**Rights: **Though "Newsies" the film is not mine, the storyline and subsequent chapters are. Please do not plagarize.

**NOTE: There is a story entitled 'Brooklyn's Secrets' by the author iheartron547. This is an old account of mine that I shared with a friend, and we coauthored a story. 'Brooklyn's Secrets' was mine alone, and this story is a revised version of such. Due to lack on login information, I was not able to delete 'Brooklyn's Secrets' before posting this story. IT IS NOT PLAGIARISM BECAUSE IT IS MY OLD WORK. Please understand.**

**AN: I just saw Newsies on Broadway and fell utterly in love. They did change some elements from the movie and one character I loved so much I have chosen to include in the story. _Minor spoiler: _Jack is given a new love interest, a young reporter named Katherine. As this is set about 3 months post-strike (which she was involved in in the show) they are dating. Any other changes I will let you know.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

As Bells slept later that evening, Spot came over to Twirls, who was attempting to get some shut eye and failing miserably.

"So did yah find Kelly?" he asked, leaning against the bedpost.

"Wha'? Oh, yeah," Twirls said. "Found 'em, told 'em, left 'em. Met his new goilfriend too. Thanks foah telling us 'bout her. Pulitzer's daughter? Really?"

Spot looked at his sister skeptically but replied, "She's trustworthy. Gave up all her money and her rich-ass life foah Jack, so go easy. But tha' was all? Nuttin' else happened ova there?"

Twirls nodded, looking at her hands. If Spot got a look at her eyes, he would know she was hiding something.

"Yeah, tha' was all," she said, picking at her nail. _Oh no, that was not all,_ she thought._ No, I ran into Mush who is oh so hot, but I can' tell yah that 'cause I would get pounded. And yah wouldn' want tah heah tha' some guy was hot anyway because you'd kill anyone who makes a move on your sistah._

Spot raised an eyebrow, but didn't question her any further. Twirls let out a silent breath of relief. She hated his interrogations.

"A'right," he said finally, uncrossing his arms and moving his hand to the head of his cane. "Kelly and Gambla are comin' ova heah, so Pockets is keepin' an eye on things."

Spot motioned to the wall of noise that rose and fell with the turns of the poker game Twirls assumed was going on amongst the newsboys.

"Why aren' they all at da docks?" Twirls asked. Spot's face was stone cold.

"Because," he said shortly, closing the topic. "Now jus' stay heah tonight, okay?"

Bells snored loudly and both siblings looked up at her.

"Well, sheah's not goin' anywheah," Twirls said. "An' I'll stay put. Don' worry."

Spot glanced between his sisters and the boys, adding, "Keep her away from Pockets," before taking his leave.

"So, who was da guy?"

Twirls craned her head to see her sister sit up and jump down from the top bunk to sit next to her.

"So, who was it?" she pestered again.

Twirls just looked at her incredulously.

"Were you'se even sleeping? Because that was a very convincing snore."

Bells winked, took off her cap, and continued to pester. "Who was da guy you'se were droolin' ova?"

Twirls looked indignant. She apparently wasn't getting out of answering the question.

"I wasn't droolin' ova anybody," she said sternly. "He's a friend."

Bells raised an eyebrow.

"Yah, an' Pockets ain't jacked," Bells said sarcastically. "Now really, who was 'e?"

Twirls looked down at her hands, weighing her options. If she told Bells, at least she would have someone to confide in over the whole matter. But then again, keeping her mouth shut would allow her to avoid any chance of news reaching Spot.

"His name is Mush," she said finally, in a small voice.

"He's a cute catch," Bells teased, elbowing her sister in the side. "Yah like 'em?"

Twirls blushed and nodded.

"Yeah," she said, nodding, still looking down at her hands. "I do."

"Yah gonna see 'em again?"

Now Twirls looked up. Her sister wasn't smirking, just looking at her expectantly, waiting for a answer.

"I-I don' know," Twirls stuttered, not sure how to answer. She hadn't given any thought to that question. It hadn't entered her mind at all, even.

"Do yah want to?"

Twirls bit her lip, pondering. A picture of Mush's face entered her mind's eye and she smiled to herself.

"Yes," she said confidently. "I do."

* * *

><p>Bat Ears walked quickly down the street, rushing to get back to the lodging house. It was dark and he wasn't in the safest area of the city. The houses were crumbling and in states of disrepair, the homes of the poorest and shadiest members of Brooklyn's society. The street Bat Ears was on was filled with litter and other things that he didn't want to know about.<p>

"Jus' get home and it'll be okay," Bat Ears said to himself, not really believing in the mantra, but he kept saying it. "Jus' get home and everything will be a'right."

A dog barked off in the distance and Bat Ears quickened his pace, looking behind him and down any side alleys he past for shadows or movement. He gulped as the wind pushed around the garbage and sped up again, this time to a near run.

"Almos' theah," he told himself, turning the corner onto a similarly dingy street, this time illuminated somewhat by lampposts. "Almos' theah. Keep yoah hat on."

He continued walking through the eerily silent night for a few more minutes, his heart rate slowly climbing back down to a reasonable pace. Things were looking less grim, less frightful now. Bat Ears began to match his footsteps to his slowing heart-rate, breathing deeply as he turned onto a main street that would eventually take him to another crossroad and then straight to the lodging house.

The silence was broken, though, by a faint whispering.

"We can' do anything till he's heah-"

"I know dat! Don' be so dense!"

Bat Ears stopped and, true to his name, listened intently and followed the source of the noise. It led him into an alley, coming to a dead end at a stone wall. The noise of voices was coming from the other side.

"Didn' Dagga say 10-"

"Shuddit! He'll beh heah!"

Dagger. Bat Ears' eyes widened at the sound of the name. He needed to get a closer view on what was going on. This could be valuable information for Spot. Looking around, he spotted crates stacked alongside a closed door, probably a shop or store. Bat Ears crept up on top of the stack, thankful he was so light for a ten year old, and pulled himself onto the wall, careful to stay out of the pool of the light that was being offered by a fire. Standing around it were two large, muscular boys Bat Ears assumed to be Bronx cronies.

"So why did he wan' us tah come again?" one boy asked, earning him a slap upside the head from his counterpart.

"Don' be stupid," the other boy said in a slight Southern draw. "It's about the Brooklyn/Hattan thing."

The boy nodded. "Oh. Okay. But wasn' Dash suppose to be heah?"

"He's comin'."

The voice came from the shadows, menacing and dark. It was slick, like oil, and sent chills down Bat Ears' spin. Stepping into the light, the speaker had an equally formidable appearance. Tall and lanky, though muscular as any boy, from years in the blacksmith shop, Dagger Smith was what many people's mental image of a dark angel would be. With his long, stringy black hair and cold, coal black eyes, he didn't need any weapons to inflict fear upon his victim.

"We've been waiting," the smaller, blond one of the two boys said.

"And heah I am, Claw, so stop the whining," Dagger said cooly, leaning against the brink wall of the building behind him. "Rodeo, have yah hoid anything?"

The boy with the accent shook his head.

"The meetin' definitely happened," he said. "Dat's all I got."

Daggers nodded slowly, the wind catching his long hair and making it blow around his pale skin, his eye blazing in the light of the fire.

"We'll wait foah Dash befoah I tell yah the next part of our plan."

"No need."

A small by stepped into the light. Bat Ears sucked in a breath. He knew him! It was the little Irish boy called Shamrock that had turned up at the house not two weeks previous. With a silent snarl Bat Ears realized the little two faced weasel was a spy.

"Dash," Dagger greeted, giving the lad a thump on the back. "Good of yah tah join us."

"Sorry it took so long," Dash said, warming his hands over the fire. "Dat Pockets had every olda kid watchin' da doors. Spot's pretty tight 'bout security tonight."

"So it took da itty bitty baby a long time tah get out?" Claw mocked, earning him another slap on the had from Rodeo.

"Shuddit," he hissed.

Dagger eyed the two evenly before turning to the younger boy.

"Any news foah me?"

Dash smirked evilly and Bat Ears' heart stopped. Oh no. What did he know?

"The two goils we knew were living at the house, sellin' in Brooklyn?" Dash said. "Pretty soah you hooked up wit' one a dem, Dagga."

Bat Ears wasn't breathing. He didn't like where this was going. He had to get home before Shamrock-Dash- did, to warn Spot. He slowly inched back to the crates.

Dagger's face didn't change at the mention of his rendez-vous, but merely waited with a stony face for his lacky to continue.

"The girls are Conlon's sisters."

The word hung in the air over the fire. Bat Ears saw Dagger's face turn into a small smile.

"Oh, this is good," he said slowly. "This is very good."

"I'll say," Rodeo remarked under his breath. Dagger turned his gaze on him.

"No touchin'," he snarled. "If anyone does, it'll beh meh. But we can use dese goils tah our advantage."

Bat Ears put on foot over the edge of the wall and tried to find the crate, but his food met with air. He stretched a little further...

_SMACK!_

Bat Ears landed hard on the cobblestone ground. Wincing slightly, he turned to find four pairs of Bronx eyes staring down at him. He watched as Dagger swaggered over and pulled him up by one thin arm.

"And this is better."


	6. Chapter 6

**Web of Lives**

**Chapter Six**

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><p><strong>Distribution: <strong>Links only- please DM to ask for approval.

**Disclaimer: **Newsies and all characters and property of the Disney Corporation. All rights reserved. Writing is not intended for profit.

**Rights: **Though "Newsies" the film is not mine, the storyline and subsequent chapters are. Please do not plagarize.

**NOTE: There is a story entitled 'Brooklyn's Secrets' by the author iheartron547. This is an old account of mine that I shared with a friend, and we coauthored a story. 'Brooklyn's Secrets' was mine alone, and this story is a revised version of such. Due to lack on login information, I was not able to delete 'Brooklyn's Secrets' before posting this story. IT IS NOT PLAGIARISM BECAUSE IT IS MY OLD WORK. Please understand.**

* * *

><p>Bat Ears began to shake as he stared up into the cold black eyes of Dagger Smith, who gripped his skinny arm and pulled him rather forcefully to his feet.<p>

"It's Conlon's spy," Dash said smugly, glad that he could provide another tidbit of information.

"Bat Ears, am I correct?" Dagger said almost softly, making his persona all the more creepy. "Well, some spy. But one we could use to our advantage."

Bat Ears was shaking horribly now and stuttered, "I-I'll t-tell! I'll t-tell S-Spot everything yoah up tah! I will! An' Pockets! I'll tell 'em Dash sneaked out! An' dat he's a spy too!"

Rodeo and Claw let out a round of laughter at this proclamation and Dagger chuckled softly, shaking his head back in forth in amusement.

"Yoah a funny little one, I'll give yah dat," he mused. "But do yah honestly think weah just gonna let yah walk away from dis? I think not."

He put Bat Ears down on a crate and knelt to his level.

"Yoah brudda..." he began. "Pockets. Nice boy, is he not?"

Bat Ears nodded fearfully and the knot in his stomach grew tighter as the possibilities of where this could lead ran through his head. The trio of Bronx boys now gathered around him also, looking menacing in the dying firelight.

"A nice boy," Daggers continued, "that could easily be ah, taken care of." As he spoke those three words, Dagger drew forth his namesake, a small, maybe 6 inches in length, dagger, tracing the edges against Bat Ear's cheek. "Now we wouldn't want that, would we?"

Bat Ears nodded, stunned. If he told, Pockets could be killed. Was reporting a puny little spy that he could easily get one of the older boys to beat up really worth the death of only caretaker, his only family? Bat Ears was sure that Brooklyn could win in a war. But what about the twins? Everyone knew there were girls in Brooklyn, but for Dagger to know that they were Spot's sisters? Knowing Dagger and his reputation...maybe he could subtly tell Spot to keep a closer eye on the pair...

"So, do we have a deal?" Dagger asked, putting away his blade. He stood up. "Yah keep yoah mouth shut and report any news yah here about Brooklyn's battle plans to Dash. Oddawise yoah brudda is history."

Bat Ears nodded, holding out his hand. Dagger spit in his own and returned the grip. Even though Dagger was grasping his hand, Bat Ears felt like it was a leash around his neck.

* * *

><p>Twirls and Bells lay on Bells' bunk, huddled under the covers as the summer night turned chilly.<p>

"Now," Bells said. "Repeat it back to me."

Twirls rolled her eyes, placating her sister.

"I get up before you ring da bell," Twirls reiterated in a bored tone. "An' go an' hide my skoit by da docks. I get my papes from Pockets like usual, but leave 'em on da crate my skoit's under when I change for yah to pick up. Den I got to 'Hattan."

"Exactly." Twirls felt the covers move as her sister nodded. "An' yah have to be back by da time market's done. Date or no date, I can' cover for yah foreva."

"I will be, calm down," Twirls said. She yawned and added, "Can I go to sleep now?"

"One more thing." Twirls let out a soft groan.

"Sleep, Bells," she snapped. "It's impoitant, 'specially when yah get up at an ungodly hour like yah do. An' I have to now, thanks to this brilliant plan."

"Well yah figure out a different way to get saftely to 'Hattan, den, witout Spot catching you," Bells said, in a hushed tone of hurt. Here she was trying to be a good sister and Twirls wanted nothing to do with it.

Twirls felt her sister roll over and reached out to touch her back.

"Bells, I'm sorry," she said, meaning it. "I'm just tired and...noivous I guess."

Bells rolled back over, her eyebrow raised even though it went unseen by her sister.

"Scared? Why?"

"Well, I'm sneakin' ova to see a boy," Twirls whispered. "I dunno, it just feels weird. An' then I get all jittery wonderin' if he would like me, an' then I get all these scenes runnin' through my head wheah he spends time wit me and finds that he doesn't like me and I just make a fool o' myself and then Spot finds out wha' we did, an' yah get in trouble and can' go see yah boy an-"

"Twirls. Breath," Bells ordered. "Foist things foist, as I mighta mentioned, Spot's goin' to Queens again. Second, Mush would be an idiot no' tah like yah. Yoah smart, cute, funny, wise-mouthish-"

"Bells, that's no' a good thing."

"Hey, I'm tryin' tah make yah feel betta heah. Let me talk. An' I'll get to sell all day with Pockets, it's a win-win."

Twirls thought back to when Spot threatened to throw Pockets out if he didn't stop hooking up with Bells. She vividly remembered the night that Spot stood on the steps of the house, Pockets in front of him, nose bleeding from the fight that ensued. And then later that week, at the New Year's Party, she remembered drunkenly walking in on Pockets and Bells in a passionate liplock.

Twirls sighed. That was her sister for you.

"Okay, yah make yoah point," Twirls said. "I just-it's gonna be hard to get close to him. I'd rather not get screwed over like you usually do."

"Ah, but some forms of screwing are so worth having."

"Bells! Go to sleep!"

* * *

><p>Twirls looked over her shoulder and lifted up her skirt as she stepped onto the Brooklyn Bridge, taking a deep breath. So far, so good. She smiled wryly, walking briskly, enjoying the sun and warmth on her skin and hair. It was a perfect summer day; the sky was blue, the clouds like cotton balls in the sky, the sun shining down, making the water in the river sparkle almost blindingly.<p>

She made her way into the hustle and bustle of the morning market, crowded even though it was quite early. Twirls still didn't know her way around this part of the city, so she made her way over to the bench she had met Mush at the previous time.

Sitting down primly, Twirls smelled fresh bread and buns and turned to look behind her, where a bakery kept residence. She felt her stomach rumble; usually she went to the restaurant with the rest of the boys, but since she had taken off as soon as Pockets had handed her the papes, that had not happened.

"Emma?"

Twirls turned and smiled, seeing a puzzled but delighted Mush coming towards her.

"Surprise," she said, standing up. Mush shook his head, still smiling.

"Yoah amazin'," he murmured, thinking Twirls couldn't hear even though she did. She prayed she did not blush.

"So, I see yah have quite a numba there," Twirls commented, motioning to the large stack of papes upon Mush's right shoulder. "Headline's good?"

Mush nodded.

"Best de've been since da strike," he replied. "Wonda how Brooklyn's are. Good, I hope, foah your sake, or Conlon must be a real joy to be around."

She shrugged. "Wouldn't know, blew off selling today to come hang wit' you, which might freak Spot out more than bad headlines.

Mush's mouth fell open slightly and he closed it quickly and said, "Right. I totally forgot you'se and Bells are his sisters."

Twirls smiled. "Don' be scared- I'll let you in on a secret, he's not as scary as he seems.

Mush laughed. He caught her glance looking at the fresh muffins and asked, "Did yah eat befoah yah hiked ova heah? Which, by da way, I thank yah foah."

"Oh, no, I didn'," Twirls responded. "An' don' worry, it was woith it."

Mush grinned and tripped over his feet on the way into the bakery, causing Twirls to smile and her feelings for him to grow even more.

He returned with two muffins, one of which he handed to Twirls, sending sparks flying between their fingertips as they touched, saying, "Heah yah go. So, do yah wanna sell wit me or..."

"Yeah, I do," Twirls said, shouldering half his papes. Mush goggled at her.

"Yah'd be suprised at how good at dat I am," she said. He nodded appreciatively, shouldering the papes on one shoulder at taking her hand, leading her away to spend one of the best days she's had.

* * *

><p>Bells sat glumly in Jackie's, the restaurant the Brooklynites frequented. She was thinking of all the doings her sister could be getting up to, from G-rated scenes to some thoughts she shouldn't be having. But she knew Twirls. She wouldn't get into too much trouble. She hoped.<p>

She looked up at the sound of a chair squeaking across the linoleum as Pockets took the seat to her right, propping his feet up in her lap.

"Um, hello," Bells greeted, cocking an eyebrow. "If Spot sees us, he'll kill you."

"Spot's in Queens, left me in charge, memba?" Pockets said with a slight smirk. "You done selling the mornin' addition?"

Bells snorted. "You doubt my abilities, buddy, I was done befoah noon."

Pockets smirked and Bells' heart thumped. So maybe she had a bit of a crush on Pockets- what girl wouldn't? Between the accent, the _fantastic _arms, the green eyes, and his long dirty blonde hair pulled back into an utterly sexy ponytail (usually he rocked the post-sex hair look that made Bells swoon).

He learned closer to her and murmured softly, "So, lass, you wanna go have some fun?"

Spot would kill her. Which is exactly why she replied, "Let's go."

* * *

><p><strong>Short, but hopefully it'll tide everyone over.<strong>

**More to come.**

**xx Bells**


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